Andrew Fletcher, a Scottish author and politician, once quipped, “Let me write the songs of a nation, and I care not who writes its laws.” It wouldn’t be surprising if Fletcher’s words got here from an statement of the Reformation. Luther viewed music as a robust tool within the hands of a Reformer. He once said: “I haven’t any use for cranks who despise music since it is a present of God. Music drives away the devil and makes people joyful; they forget thereby all wrath, unchastity, arrogance, and the like. Next, after theology, I give to music the best place and the best honor.”
He understood that our songs will at all times shape our worldview. The Protestant Reformation and other awakenings spread not only through its gospel preaching but additionally through its gospel singing. Life-changing biblical truths were in a position to be encased in familiar songs. It’s why most of the early hymns were set to bar tunes. They were memorable and transformative when combined with solid theology.
When I used to be first doing ministry, I used to be asked to evangelise at a nursing home. Most of the people that they had wheeled into the tiny chapel area gave the impression to be far gone mentally. For much of the service, they stared off into the space with a glassy look of their eyes. (Maybe this prepared me for preaching on Sunday mornings a number of years later. I kid, I kid). The years had vanquished their minds, and plenty of of their memories were gone. I don’t think my sermon landed for really any of them.
But when my wife went to the piano and started playing the primary few notes of Amazing Grace, it was like standing before a bunch of teenagers. I used to be absolutely amazed. It was as in the event that they had partaken of the fountain of youth. They began passionately singing the words of the song. The words of this precious hymn had been so embedded of their psyche that even in the event that they forgot their name, they were in a position to recall this precious truth.
The same is true for kids in our churches today. And our adults. We remember the lyrics. (I can still sing, to my shame, all of the lyrics of Ice Ice Baby and a bunch of other rap songs I’d care not to say). Our worship songs are taught on a Sunday morning. It is embedding truth inside the souls of our people. That is why good theology matters. Gordon Fee has rightly said, “Show me a church’s songs, and I’ll show you their theology.”
When we predict concerning the songs we elect for a worship service, we must always think well beyond that Sunday morning experience. We are aiming for thus rather more. We are aiming for those nursing home moments 50 years from now. We are speaking into the nursery, knowing that we’re implanting truth into children who will someday soon be a youngster pressed into making vital decisions. These lyrics will stick—don’t we would like it to be good gospel theology?
Photo Credit: © Unsplash/Shaun Frankland
